Uncertain of his Sister’s Fate, a Boy enters LIMBO.

You lay in the grass for a few moments, unsure of your surroundings. You slowly open your eyes and look around; you’re in the middle of some kind of forest. Massive trees block out most of the sunlight, forcing you to wait as your eyes adjust. You toss a brief glance back over your shoulder, seeing nothing but dense foliage and shadows behind you. With no idea of where you’re going or how to get there you decide to simply move forward, toward the light.

You climb across the fallen husk of a long-dead tree and find yourself standing at the edge of a small ravine. Knowing that a dead-end is all that awaits you in the opposite direction you continue on, sliding down the embankment leaving yourself no way back. At the bottom you find a small gap. You carefully lower yourself into it, realizing too late that the bottom is filled with sharp and pointed branches. The world goes black.

You open your eyes and find yourself standing on the felled tree once more. You descend the embankment a second time and carefully leap over the fatal gap, stopping only for a moment to look back at what was and was not your final resting place. You push on, uncertain of what awaits you but unwilling to relent.

It’s safe to say that there are quite a lot of games out there. Hundreds of thousands of different titles for different systems spread out over several decades. Many of them are good and many of them are bad. Some are exceptional and some are horrifically terrible. In all that time only a tiny fraction of these games have broken through the ranks and truly made something of themselves.  They are the Elite. They are Classics.

Hiding among these shining examples of the medium is an even more select group. Games that have somehow managed to break free from the confines of gamedom. Games that have elevated themselves beyond mere “entertainment.” These aren’t just video games, they’re experiences. And Limbo is one such entity.

It’s the sort of game that can only truly be understood by playing it or watching it all the way through. Screenshots, video clips and ultimately reviews just can’t fully convey what it feels like to control the Boy as he braves all manner of danger in his travels through this brutal, haunting and beautiful nightmare world. The game contains no text. There are no tutorials to “teach you the ropes” or guides to give you hints. No checkpoint or autosave indicators. It’s just you (as the Boy) and Limbo.

From start to finish, it’s a completely seamless experience. The Boy wakes up in the woods and upon getting to his feet he’ll relinquish control to you. As you leap, swing and climb, you’ll never once encounter a loading screen or see any indication that you’ve reached a new “level.” The only interruptions you’ll experience (save pausing the game, quitting in the middle of a session, etc…) will be the Boy’s constant deaths, whereupon the screen will fade to darkness and quickly come back to reveal him, completely unharmed once more, only a brief distance from his mishap. It’s handled flawlessly and will effortlessly suck you in each and every time, even on subsequent playthroughs.

As with the game itself, words can’t adequately describe Limbo‘s visuals. Subtle use of shapes and lines perfectly convey the shift from one environment to another. Middle-ground items, such as the Boy and the area of the environment he can interact with, are all solid black silhouettes, while foreground and background objects appear somewhat blurry, but remain recognizable. It’s a very striking and memorable visual style that looks even better in motion. Pebbles and other debris will fly through the air immediately after a boulder impacts the spot you were standing in less than a second before. The Boy runs with an impressive sense of realism. Small specks will buzz around standing water. Bodies will sway slowly as they hang lifelessly by their necks.

But beautiful as it might be, Limbo is also a dangerous and terrifying place. Traps are liberally sprinkled throughout your path, ready to grind, crush, smash, stab, rend, tear, cook, drown, mangle and otherwise dispose of you. Monsters lurk in the shadows, waiting to pounce and devour you. You’ll see the remains of those who couldn’t make it everywhere. Despite being completely devoid of color and fine details, Limbo is one incredibly gruesome game. But how exactly does it stack up as a game?

Exceptionally well.

It’s a very complete and polished package through and through. The Boy controls flawlessly; reaching out for ledges and ropes mid-jump, clamoring nimbly over boxes and leaping just far enough to clear fatal chasms. The multitude of environmental puzzles become quite challenging, but can all be figured out eventually and will leave you feeling like a hero when you clear them. The story is laid out before you in the world; every piece of abandoned machinery and every unfortunate soul left as a warning of the hazards ahead paints a picture meant for you to interpret. Your heart will race and your throat will tighten in the three to four hours (one to two if you already know the puzzles) you’ll devote to helping the Boy find his Sister. And it will all happen again as you play it a second time.

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Things We Liked: An incredibly solid and memorable experience. Spectacular presentation. Gorgeous visuals. The ending (play it and see for yourself).

Things We Disliked: …

Target Audience: Platform and puzzle junkies. Especially puzzle-platformer fans. Human beings who haven’t had their soul sucked out through their headset during Halo trash-talking sessions. Rob Rich.

(Limbo – Developer: Playdead. Publisher: Microsoft. Available on Xbox 360 via Xbox Live Arcade. A copy of the game was provided by the publisher for review purposes. Unfamiliar with CFD!’s review system? Read our newly revised explanation here.)